


Echoes

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has no idea what he's doing here and the idea that it might be about her is a little terrifying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrollgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrollgirl/gifts).



He's never been terribly good at this and says so. Across from him, her head down, she grins and it's just wry enough, knowing enough, that he sees Dax. It's ridiculous, of course. She's nothing like any Dax he's ever known, but that smile. He wonders what Dax would think of this version, her quicksilver mind and harsher tongue, younger and brasher than his history credits her.

His own grin at the resulting answer comes quickly and it's his turn to duck his head. He has no explanation for his smile that doesn't result in this being over.

"I find that hard to believe," she says, and he remembers his comment.

"And why is that?"

Once, he walked past her on another ship's bridge, in a uniform not his own, and saw the quick assessment of her eye. She'd smiled then as she does now and she's not _her_ , the vagaries of time and chance having molded her in ways that woman never knew, but he can't help hoping that he's reading it the same.

She leans forward, a spanner in her hand, and there's a smudge of something high on her cheek. His fingers twitch, instinct telling his hand to brush at it, but he takes the spanner instead.

Another smile is her answer to that. She glances down at his hand, but makes no comment on it. "You smile too easily to be bad with people."

He huffs a laugh. "My -- " the barest hesitation, not one large enough to hide a son he can't see, and he continues "executive officer would beg to differ. She would tell you I'm terrible with most people." He smiles. "Especially women."

He can almost hear Kira laughing.

A sound echoed by the woman in front of him. He looks at her. Younger than the woman he'd met, if only by a few years, but two steps ahead in rank. His eyes travel over her shoulder to the repair crews rebuilding his bridge, then back to her again. She grins, shrugging a little, as she turns to dig through a pile of tools. "You seem to be doing fine by my standards."

Her head is lowered, but he still catches her smile.

His own is wide. "Then I'll take that as a compliment."

He wrote a report on her once. Years before 'Lieutenant Brisko' had conned James T. Kirk out of an autograph under her amused eye, he'd written about Nyota Uhura. He wonders how this Uhura would take hearing that story. Captain Uhura's work on the Enterprise had been her most famous assignment, all the more so because she'd worked hard to keep it that way. One of his first opportunities as a newly-fledged captain had been to poke around in some of that work. The little that was open to him.

"You're thinking about something," she says. It's not a question.

He laughs. "I think about a great many things."

She makes a noncommittal noise and then drops, gracelessly, to the floor. A second later and she's shimmying beneath a console.

"You should be careful," he warns, but gets a snort in response.

"I should be working," she replies. "Hand me that?"

That turns out to be a small tool just a breath away from her hand. He nudges it closer. She's not the Nyota Uhura of his childhood. Not the spymaster who'd played cat and mouse with the Romulans for decades and one-upped them at every turn. She's never danced at a Vulcan's wedding—actually passed on having one of her own, she's never known anything of the history he remembers.

This is a woman who'd taken command of the Flagship's communications staff before she'd graduated the Academy. Who, despite early hiccups, had taken that department and run it with style. He respected the Nyota Uhura of his youth.

He thinks that maybe, he's falling in love with her now. That's a problem. He's not supposed to be here. Benjamin Sisko hasn't been born yet. His own father hasn't been born yet. His grandfather is a little boy in Louisiana. His family is nothing like what it will be, but everything like it was.

He's a forerunner of a man he'll never be. An echo of the man he already was.

Ben tugs at the sleeve of his uniform and crouches down beside her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine."

She lifts her arm and looks out at him. "Feeling a little out of place?"

He grins. "Just a bit."

He's still brushing up on his duotronic circuitry. Isolinear chips won't be around for another century and a Constitution-class starship isn't a Cardassian space station. He has no idea what he's doing here and the idea that it might be about her is a little terrifying.

Nyota laughs. "Come here," she says, crooking a finger. "I'll show you."

The Prophets don't agree with this. He can feel their disapproval even now, but he's not listening. He doesn't know why he's here, with her on this ship, but he needs to be.

Right now, that's enough for him.


End file.
